The Odds in Our Favor
by RangerofFiction
Summary: 12 Districts. 24 Tributes. 1 Victor. The untold story of the 69th Annual Hunger Games. Learn about the tributes lives, their struggles and their will to survive and share their tale of friendship, bravery, and love. And see if the odds were really in their favor.
1. Introduction

This is the story of the 24 tributes chosen to compete in the 69th Annual Hunger Games. Follow their different stories and learn how 23 died and 1 survived to be crowned victor.

Maybe you'll like Kira Armstrong, the sarcastic and clever 15-year-old from District 4 who was reaped with Liam Pike, the son of the Head Peacekeeper who killed her parents even though Liam, quiet and intelligent, is nothing like his father.

Or maybe Cash Martin is more to your taste, the flirty playboy from District 2, bent on winning the Games.

Maybe you'll root for Kye Oaks, a fun loving force to be reckoned with from District 9, but if fun isn't what you're looking for, District 11's serious Clark Seeder might be the tribute for you.

Maybe you'll heart will go to Jason Coal, the mischievous 13-year-old from District 12 or maybe you'll side with Shiny Shiner, the vicious blondie from District 1.

Maybe Ray Stormer will catch your eye who only volunteered in the hopes to bring his family out of poverty. Or maybe you'll go with Trix Belden from District 8 and Fawn Woods from District 10 both who volunteered for their siblings.

Maybe it's Talia Mika, a stubborn 17-year-old from District 5, you'll want to win, determined to win even though she got reaped with her twin brother.


	2. Chapter 1: The Reaping

**Chapter 1: The Reaping**

**Kira Armstrong, District 4 (15)**

It was barely dawn when I woke. The sky outside was grey and cloudy and the air was chill. I pushed back the thin soft cotton sheets, disturbing our black and white patched cat, Casper, who was curled up against my back, and reached for the clothes lying next to my bed; a cream-coloured peasant-top, denim pants, and black combat boots. I unfolded my father's leather hunting jacket that I'd been using as a pillow and pulled it on. Slipping past the second bed where my older brother, Lance, lay asleep, I snuck out the door.

No one was stirring which wasn't usual. Normally at this time, everyone would be up and heading down to the docks, but Reaping Day was a day off, might as well sleep in for once. I cut through an alley and down two more streets to the edge of town. All around District 4 is a chain-link fence topped with barbwire loops. It's electric, but there's a place where a fallen branch or something had broken the power line, leaving a meter of fence safe to touch. I crawled through the hole I'd made in the bottom and out onto the beach.

I yanked off my socks and combat boots, knotting the laces together and hung them around my neck. The soft sand felt good between my toes, a salt wind blew through my hair, and the sound of crashing waves filled my ears. One big wave sends the water rushing up to kiss my feet, white foam swirling around me. It was freezing cold, but I didn't back away. I felt the strength and power of the ocean through my limbs. I longed to go for a swim, but the chill air deterred me so I just stood, staring out to where grey sky met the sea.

My feet had just gone numb and I was thinking of walking farther down the beach when I was grabbed from behind.

"You're not aloud out here!" a voice hissed in my ear.

Without thinking, I slammed my elbow into my attacker's stomach before flipping them over my shoulder. Because District 4 was a Career district, we have classes in school on survival and fighting like you'd find in the Training Center. I had always exceled at hand-to-hand combat and could beat an opponent three times my size. To my shock, it wasn't a white-clad Peacekeeper grinning up at me.

"Lance, you moron!" I shouted. "I could've killed you!"

"Keep your voice down," he said, still grinning. "Admit it, sis, I got you good."

"Not in a million years, jackass," I said and aimed a kick at him.

He grabbed my foot and pulled me down with him. We laughed as we tussled. After a few minutes, we stopped and Lance picked up the rolled up blanket he'd dropped when I flipped him.

"Come on," he said, kicking off his shoes. "Let's head farther down."

I grabbed my combat boots and followed him. When we were out of sight of the hole in the fence, he stopped and spread his blanket on the ground. I tossed down my boots and sat down next to him.

"I got something for you," he said, reaching into his pocket and bringing out a cinnamon bagel with raisins.

I almost snatched it from his hand and held it to my nose. It was still warm and smelled like haven.

"God, Lance, how much did this coast?" I asked.

"Enough," replied Lance, grinning as I break it in half and hand one piece to him.

Lance is a year older than me, tall and athletic with deeply tanned skin, bronze-colored hair, and bluish-green eyes like sea glass. Most people think all of District 4 have sea green eyes, but to tell the truth, most of us have either bluish-grey or bluish-green eyes. Lance has Mom's eyes while I have my Dad's rare sea green ones. Other than that, Lance looks just like our Dad while I look like Mom; an elfish face with high cheekbones and a pointed chin and sleek red hair. My build is slim and my legs are longer than my torso. My skin is lightly tanned so it gives it a golden look.

Our parents died when I was eleven, shot for a crime they didn't do. Lance had to take over caring for us when he was barely twelve. I was surprised how funny and care-free he still was after all that. Lance and I sat in silence, eating, and staring out at the sea. Lance finished first and he moves to sit behind me, his long fingers playing with my hair.

I close my eyes for a moment, enjoying the feeling. He started to hum a song I remember my father singing while we fished. We use to sing all the time. Lance had an amazing voice that made you want to laugh and cry at the same time, but I hadn't heard him sing in a long time. He started to sing the words while I hummed along:

_"Silver fish in the blue-green sea,_

_Turned golden in the light of dawn,_

_The waves rear like white horses,_

_And crash onto the soft sands._

_Salt wind in your sails,_

_Your nets are filled,_

_Turn your prow toward shore,_

_And sail on home._

_The stars will be our compass,_

_Wherever we may roam,_

_And our mates will always be_

_Just like a family,_

_And though we may put into port,_

_The sea is always home._

_Salt wind in your sails,_

_Your nets are filled,_

_Turn your prow toward shore,_

_And sail on home._

_Salt wind in your sails,_

_Your nets are filled,_

_Turn your prow toward shore,_

_And sail on home."_

I let the song wash over me like waves on the beach, never wanting it to stop. Lance braided my hair in a rope braid **(French braid)**, but since my hair was layered, I had half a bang about chin-length hanging lose on the left side.

"There. Now you're all ready for the Reaping." he said, grinning.

I cocked an eyebrow and gave him a playful punch on the arm. The first rays of the sun broke the horizon, turning the sea to gold. We watched it, Lance's arm around my shoulders. When you're at the seaside, it seems timeless. As the sun rose higher in the sky, the air started to get warmer. Lance pulled away and yanked his shirt off.

"Join me for a dip?" he asked.

I laughed. "OK, but you can't dunk me or you'll have to redo my hair."

"Fair enough," he said and splashed me.

I shrieked and tried to splash him back, but he dodged, grinning like a maniac.

"That the best you got!" he said.

I lunged at him and knocked his legs out from under him. With a yell, he disappeared under water. A second later, he was up, spluttering.

"No fair! If I can't dunk you, you can't dunk me!"

"Life isn't fair," I said and dunked him again.

Hours later, we sunk back through the hole in the fence and made are way home to get ready for the Reaping. I showered quickly, careful not to get my hair wet, and changed into one of my Mom's old dresses. It was sea green, matching my eyes, sleeveless, and reached my knees. Lance came out of the shower, wearing a simple dress shirt and pants, and rubbing the water from his hair. He stopped and stared at me.

"What?" I asked.

It took him a moment to respond.

"I . . . didn't realize . . . you're growing up so fast," he said, softly. "Soon, you'll be married and have kids of your own."

I threw myself into his arms and bury my face in his shoulder. He held me tight.

"Don't be an idiot," I said. "I'm not going anywhere."

The square in front of the Justice Building was packed with kids between the ages of twelve and eighteen. The boys were gathered on the left side of the square, the girl on the right. I stood with the other fifteen-year-olds girls, my eyes on the two glass balls on the stage. Some of those slips of paper had my name on it. How many? Ten? Twelve? I didn't remember.

I glanced over at the group of boys and spotted Lance. He caught my eye and grinned. I grinned back and turned to face the stage. Grace Wisler, with her too-thick bright red lipstick and six-inch heels, was just getting to her feet. How she can walk in those heels is one of the great mysteries of life.

"Welcome, welcome!" she said in a high voice, heavy with the Capitol accent. "Happy Hunger Games and may the odds be ever in your favor!"

She moved over to stand next to one of the glass balls.

"Ladies first!" she said and reaches her hand in. "Kira Armstrong!"

What? That couldn't be right. It couldn't be right. I stood frozen, my fist clenched at my sides. Surly someone would volunteer. No one did. A few of the girls next to me gave me a push toward the stage. Squaring my shoulders, I moved toward the stage.

"No, Kira!"

I turned quickly. Lance was fighting to get to me. It took six Peacekeepers to hold me back.

"No, no, Kira! She can't go! She just can't go!"

One Peacekeeper punched him hard in the face, making him fall to his knees.

"Lance!" I called, but Grace pulled me up on stage.

"Wonderful!" she said. "Now for our boy tribute."

She reached her hand into the second ball. _Not Lance. _I thought._ Dear God, not Lance._

"Liam Pike!"

A gasp went around the square. Liam Pike was the Head Peacekeeper's only son. I watched him mount the stage; a boy about my age, but slightly taller with wild blonde hair, sky-blue eyes, and unusually pale skin. The shock still hadn't left his face though he was going his best to hide it. He looked nothing like his father whose close-cut hair, square jaw, and cold, hard eyes were branded in my memory from the night he took my parents away.

Our mayor reads the Treaty of Treason and signs for Liam and I to shake hands. He gives mine a reassuring squeeze. I meet his eyes. He flushed and looked away.

**Fawn Woods, District 10 (13)**

I sit on the fence boarding the pastures, swinging my legs, a warm breeze playing with my fawn-coloured curls. The cows were grazing peacefully, flicking away flies with their long tails. Birds sang in the nearby trees and the air smelled like wild flowers. I closed my eyes, wishing everything would stay like this; quiet, peaceful . . .

"Fawn! Time to get ready for the Reaping!"

I sighed at the loud noise and jumped down from the fence.

"I'm coming, Milo!" I called.

My eight-year-old brother grinned. He had a head of curly fawn-coloured hair like mine and a dusting of freckles, but his eyes were blue like Mom's. I had brown eyes like Dad. Our family was on the poorer side, giving we had five mouths to feed. Then, Dad had his accident so now he only has one arm which made working difficult.

It was even harder when my older brother, Wesley, left. I had to take more tesserae and started taking over Dad's work. I despised my oldest brother slightly. We barely saw him since he moved out and he didn't help us, claiming it was hard enough earning a living for himself. I ruffled Milo's curls.

"Race you home," I said.

I could have won easily, running was one of the only things I was really good at, but I let Milo win. Mom was helping Sapphire into her white Reaping dress. The two of them looked identical; blue eyes, golden hair, fair skin. It was Sapphire's first Reaping.

"Go wash up," Mom said. "I'll lay out your dress."

I washed quickly since the water was ice cold and Mom helped me dress in a pale blue dress that she made herself out of one of her old dresses. Then, she sat me down and ran a brush through my curls. I winced as it snagged on knots. Milo grinned at me. I knew he was glad it wasn't him. When she was done, Mom pulled me and Sapphire to her and hugged us.

"Me, too!" cried Milo, squeezing between us.

Mom smiled and hugged him too.

"I'll find you after the Reaping," she told Sapphire and me. "I managed to get a chicken and am going to roast it for dinner."

I grinned and took Sapphire's hand.

"Come on; let's get this over with,"

"Sapphire Woods!"

No, I couldn't have heard right. My gently sister couldn't have been picked; her name was only in there once.

"I volunteer!" I cried, rushing forward.

As I mounted the stage, tears threatened to pour from my eyes. I was going into the Hunger Games. I could be dead in a week. No, I couldn't think like that. I had to come home. I just had too.

**Talia Mika, District 5 (17)**

It was sick, this whole Hunger Games, just sick. I stared around at the other kids, their scared white faces. Sick. I wanted to punch the Capitol right in its rich preening face for doing this. The escort mounted the stage. Her skin and hair were dyed lavender. My lip curled. Their sense of fashion was also lacking. She reached into one of the glass balls and took out a name.

"Christina Robin!"

A little dark-haired 12-year-old, eyes wide with terror. She wouldn't last a minute in the arena. I couldn't let her do that. I stepped forward.

"I volunteer!"

"How exciting!" the escort cried as I mounted the stage and stood next to her. "And what's your name, dear?"

"Talia Mika," I said coldly.

"Lovely," the lavender woman said. "Now, for the boys."

She reached her hand in and drew out a name.

"Nickolas Mika!"

My heart nearly stopped. _No, not Nick. Anyone, but Nick._ I watched my twin mount the stage. With his light brown hair, grey eyes, and heart-shaped face, Nick was my double in boy form. I scanned the crowd, silently begging someone to volunteer. No one did. I knew I could win the Games. I had known from the moment I volunteered that I would be this year's victor, but now that meant I would have to kill my own brother.

**Ray Stormer, District 6 (14)**

"Ray, can I have some more?"

I looked into my little sister's face and wished I could give a different answer.

"I'm sorry, Lily, but I don't have any more," I said.

"But, I'm hungry," she said, her lip trembling.

I scooped her up in a hug.

"Shush, don't cry. They'll be more for dinner. I promise."

She nodded, squeezing her old teddy bear. I put her down and told her to go play with David and Vic. When she was gone, I sat down at the kitchen table and buried my head in my hands. I was only fourteen, but I felt much older. I had always had to help take care of my siblings while my parents worked. Then, my Dad was killed and Mom was fired from her job.

I started working when I was eleven, going from door to door with my father's old tools, offering repairs for a small fee. Now, that I was older, I managed to get a job building Capitol trains, but it still didn't bring enough. Mom got a job selling her body to the all the rich men who would sleep with her. It was sad how many of them did.

But, even with the money she and I earned, we barely had enough food to feed my eight siblings. Mom and I had started going without, which didn't help me keep up my strength to work. Now, things were getting even harder and I didn't know what to do.

To add to the stress, it was two of my siblings first Reaping. I had taken out as much tesserae as I could, but still my other of-age siblings had had to take some too. I felt beaten. Then, an idea came. An utterly impossible insane idea. I could volunteer and go into the Hunger Games. If I won, my family would be set for life.

But, that was crazy! I would be fighting against twenty-three other kids many of whom would be bigger and stronger and more skilled than me. But, if I didn't do something, my family would starve. I lifted my head and made my decision. I would enter the Hunger Games. I would win and bring the prize to my family. Or die trying.


	3. Chapter 2: Good-Byes

**Chapter 2: Good-byes**

**Liam Pike, District 4 (15)**

I sat in a velvet window-seat, staring out the two-inch thick glass at the sea. I didn't expect any visitors. My father wouldn't be caught dead visiting with me and my mother had died when I was four. I reached into the neck of my shirt and pulled out a gold ring hanging on a leather cord. It was shaped like two hands holding a heart with a crown on it. It was a Celtic Claddagh, symbolizing friendship, loyalty, and love. The heart was set with a diamond.

My mother had given it to me before she died and told me to give it to the girl I loved. It had been passed down in my family for centuries. Now, it would die with me. Or maybe not . . .

I shook my head. It was a stupid thought. We were going into the Hunger Games. We could be dead in mere days. I heard noise in the corridor. I moved to the door which was slightly ajar and saw Lance Armstrong entering the room across the hall. Strange how unlike his sister he looked.

Five minutes later, the Peacekeepers came and dragged him out. I heard Kira screaming his name and Lance say: "I'll see you soon, OK," then the door slammed shut and he was marched away down the hall. I stared at the door, wondering if I should go comfort her, but thought better of it.

I went back to the window-seat and watched the waves roll onto the sands. _Fate is cruel. _I thought. _I couldn't even find love before being sent to my death._ But, there was nothing I could do. I tried to accept it, but it was hard. _How do you accept your own death?_

**Trix Belden, District 8 (16)**

I was happy. I had loving parents, two siblings, a job making fancy clothes, a sweet boyfriend, what more could I want. Then, it was torn away from me. I acted without thinking, volunteering for my little sister, Daisy, but what would any older sister do?

I sat on a couch in the visiting room and felt like crying. My parents and siblings came and I tried to be strong for them, but it was hard. Mom and Daisy were crying, Dad looked lost, and little Chris asked why was I going away. When they were gone, my best friends, Jane and Eliza, came. They were also tearful and wished me good luck.

When they left, I did cry. I cried so hard my body shook. A soft arm went around my shoulders and my boyfriend, Paul, pulled me close. I sobbed into his shoulder.

"I don't want to go!" I choked out. "I don't want to die!"

"You won't," said Paul, gently.

I pulled away.

"Don't lie to me!" I screamed. "I'm going to die! I can't win! I never can win!"

I broke down sobbing again. Paul cupped my chin and forced me to meet his eyes. He was still as handsome as the day I first set eyes on him; dark curly hair, olive skin, eyes like dark pools, and the most dazzling smile that made you melt inside.

"You can win," he said quietly. "I know you can. You just need to believe in yourself."

He kissed me and I wrapped my arms around his neck. When the Peacekeepers came, Paul begged for more time, but they started to pull him away. I panicked, screaming and clutching him, but they dragged him away and slammed the door. I sat on the floor, fresh tears starting to pour down my cheeks. I was going into the Hunger Games. I was truly going into the Hunger Games.


	4. Chapter 3: The Train ride to the Capitol

**Chapter 3: The Train ride to the Capitol**

**Cash Martin, District 2 (16)**

I couldn't help, but grin to myself as I lounged on a window-seat in the Capitol train. It was perfect. This was my year.

"Stop grinning, you're creeping me out," said a voice behind me.

I turned and winked at my district partner, a tall girl of seventeen with long dark brown hair and a steely eye.

"Sorry, Kitty," I said, not wiping the grin from my face.

"It's Kathrin to you," she snapped.

I just kept grinning and fiddled with a strand of her hair, laughing when she smacked my hand away. It was so much fun annoying pretty girls. Our mentors came in and we started watching the recap of the Reapings. The pair from 1 seemed like good allies; the boy was big and muscled and the girl was blonde and sexy looking. Next was ours.

I grinned as I watched myself step up to volunteer. District 3 left no impression, but 4 was exciting. No volunteers which was strange. Both tributes didn't seem too thrilled. The girl was a hot red-head who looked like she could handle herself though her brother (I was guessing it was her brother though they looked nothing alike) didn't seem to think so. The boy looked pale and though athletic, looked like he spent more time thinking then fighting.

District 5 was also interesting. It was very rare that a brother and sister were picked, let along twins. The girl looked ready to murder. She was pretty cute coming from an outline district. I barely noticed the rest of them.

"So," said my mentor when they were done. "What do you think of your competition?"

I shrugged.

"I just noticed the hot girls," I said.

My mentor grinned and Kathrin rolled her eyes and muttered: "Boys,"

Oh, this was going to be a great year.

**Kira Armstrong, District 4 (15)**

Grace left me in my room and told me I could do whatever I wanted until dinner. My room contained a bedroom, dressing room, and private bathroom with hot and cold running water. It was strange thinking I was on a train going a hundred miles an hour and couldn't feel a thing.

When we first got on the train, it started with such speed that I staggered into Liam, knocking us both to the floor. Just then, Grace had entered and the look on her face when she saw us on the floor was priceless. She probably thought we were fighting. I grinned at the memory as I peeled off my mother's green sleeveless dress and took a hot shower.

We have showers in District 4 to rid ourselves of the smell of fish, but they were mostly all only cold water. I dried myself and pulled on a pair of black pants and a dark grey tank top. These were the simplest clothes I could find and showed off, not only my bright hair, skin, and eyes, but also the cords of muscle running through my arms and the tight tank also showed my abs. I left my damp hair hanging down my back and picked something off the bedside table.

It was my district token Lance had given me when he came to say good-bye; a silver medallion engraved with three spirals on a silver chain. He said it was Celtic and the spirals symbolized the three stages of a woman's life; maiden, mother, and crone. It was the most beautiful thing I had ever seen and loved the feel of it around my neck.

Grace came and leads me to the dining car. Liam was already sitting at the table and avoiding my gaze. Grace said we'd meet our mentors tomorrow. Supper came in courses; thick creamy soap, roasted potatoes with rosemary, fried shrimp, green salad, white rolls, lamb and pork chops, iced fruit, cheese-filled pastries, and warm brownies topped with vanilla ice cream and caramel sauce.

I ate as much as I could while Grace goes on about how well-mannered the Career tributes are. Even though I might die in five days, at least the food was good, though when the meal was over, I'm fighting to keep it down. My stomach wasn't use to such rich fare. I notice Liam was looking a little green too and that puzzled me. As the Head Peacekeeper's son, he should be eating this all the time.

We go into another compartment to watch the replay of the Reapings. I study the faces of the other tributes. In a matter of weeks, twenty-three of them will be dead. Then, Grace hurried us off to bed. I climbed into bed fully-clothed and am soon asleep.

I awoke to Grace tapping on my door and saying: "Up, up, up, we have a big day ahead!"

Mutter some pretty colourful swear words, I got up, ran a brush through my hair, and, not bothering to change, headed barefoot down the hall to the dining car. Liam and Grace were already there along with a young man about eighteen who I guessed was our mentor. He looked up and grinned at me and I recognized him. It was hard not to.

His name was Finnick Odair and he won the Sixty-fifth Hunger Games when he was only fourteen and is still one of the youngest victors. Being from District 4, he was a Career and already favored, but no trainer could claim to have given him his extraordinary beauty; tall and athletic with golden skin, bronze-coloured hair, and incredible sea green eyes. While the other tributes were hard-pressed to receive the smallest gift, he was never in need of anything, not food or weapons or medicine. When his competitors realized he was the one to kill (a week after the Games started), it was too late.

He was already a good fighter with the spears and knives he had taken from the Cornucopia. Then, he received a silver parachute with a trident—the most expensive gift ever seen given in the arena—and it was over. District 4's industry is fishing so Finnick had been on boats his whole life. The trident was a natural deadly extension of his arm and he wove a net out of a kind of vine so he could use it to entangle his opponents and spear them. In a matter of days, the crown was his.

I loved watching Finnick's Hunger Games, not only because he was the hottest guy on the planet, but because he didn't team with the other Career tributes. He survived by using his wits not just his amazing looks and fighting skills.

Finnick watched me as I sat down and helped myself to food. It was a bit unnerving. I tried to ignore him as I took a sip of a rich brown drink. It was hot, sweet, and creamy.

"They call it hot chocolate," said Finnick, taking a sip from his own cup. His voice was a seductive purr. "Good, huh?"

I nodded as I drained the cup. Finnick was still watching me.

"So, your last name is Armstrong?" he asked.

I nodded and glanced at Liam. He looked as puzzled as me. Then, Finnick laughed.

"I really don't believe this," he said.

"Believe what?" I asked.

"You're my cousin," he replied. "Armstrong was my mother's maiden name."

I gasped. I always knew Dad had a sister, but we never met her since she died in child birth. Her husband wanted nothing to do with us since we were poor. I couldn't believe my cousin was Finnick Odair. Liam also looked surprised.

"How . . . how can you be cousins?" he asked.

Finnick grinned and tapped below his eye. The same colour eyes as mine. I grinned back at him, unsure what else to do. How do you greet an amazingly hot cousin who you never knew and are here only to prepare you for your death? Finnick leaned back in his chair.

"OK," he said. "We'll be arriving at the Capitol soon. I'll be mentoring both of you. We tried to get another mentor, but it didn't work out. For now, it's up to your stylists to deal with you. We'll come up with a plan tomorrow. Good with you?"

Liam and I nodded. We passed through a tunnel and when we came out, I caught a glimpse of the Capitol. Liam went over to the window to get a better view. I heard people cheering as the train passed. Liam ducked out of sight and looked at me. I knew we both felt the same sickened feeling. These people were excited to watch us die.


	5. Chapter 4: The Chariot Parade

**Chapter 4: The Chariot Parade**

**Jason Coal, District 12 (13)**

I stood next to my chariot, pulled by coal-black horses, and straightened my coal-miner hat that was too big for me with a lamp on it. My stylist had no creativity or sense. Seriously, District 12 had been dressed in coal-miner outfits since the Games first started. As for sense, well no one in the Capitol had that.

I glanced at my district partner. We could have been siblings with our trademark Seam black hair, olive skin, and grey eyes, but I knew for a fact we weren't. Both her parents were born in the Seam, but my Dad was born in town. My mom, who was Seam-born, moved in with him after they got married. Dad didn't like me going to play with my friends from the Seam, thought they weren't good enough for me, but I thought otherwise. The only benefit of living in town was my Dad, a leather worker, made more money so we got more food so I was less thin than my district partner.

The chariots started to go out one at a time. District 1's tributes were dressed all in gold and the girl had the most revealing outfit that it made me flush. District 2 were dressed in Peacekeeper-like uniforms, but the boy had his arms bare showing off his muscles. District 3 worn outfits made of tones of different gears.

District 4's outfits took my breath away. They were dressed in a simple unitard and knee-high boots with a long flowing cape, all a deep blue-green, the colour of the sea. Whenever they moved, flecks of gold flashed across it like sunlight on water and also white flashes, like sea foam. Next are District 5's twin brother and sister, their outfits covered in lightning bolts. Then, District 6; the girl wearing all black and the boy wearing all white with smoke wafting off the back of their chariot.

The tributes from District 7 are dressed as trees like they are ever year while District 8 were dressed in patchwork suits made with every type of cloth imaginable. The girl looked like a mouse with brown hair and wide eyes, but she was smiling and waving like she was having a great time. District 9's outfits were also amazing; they looked like moving stocks of golden grain. The District 9 boy was just as well-built as the boy from 2. Against them, I stood no chance.

District 10 were dressed in stereotyped cowboy outfits; denim pants, leather hats and boots, and red plaid shirts. District 11 were wearing a mix of brown and green, a little like District 7. The boy from this district was also hulking while the girl was slight and wispy. Then, it was our turn. I gasped a little as the chariot started to move, blinded by light and noise.

**Kira Armstrong, District 4 (15)**

The streets were packed with people, all screaming at the top of their lungs. When we started to move, Liam had grabbed my hand to keep his balance. I catch sight of us on a large television screen and am awed by how breathtaking we look. It looks like we're wearing the sea itself, our capes rolling behind us like waves. In the fading light, our clothes seem to glow, illuminating our faces. With the minimal makeup, we look attractive, but utterly recognizable.

_Remember, heads high and smile. _I hear my stylist, Talon's, voice in my head. I raised my chin a little higher and put on my best smile. I was glad now I had Liam to hold on to, so steady and solid. When he realized we were still holding hands, he flushed and starts to let go.

"No, don't let go of me," I said in a low voice. "Or we'll both fall out of this thing."

He smiled and hung on. We halted in front of President Snow's mansion where he welcomes us. Then, the national anthem plays and we paraded around a final time before disappearing into the Training Center. Talon and the other stylists are there to help us down from our chariots.

"You were amazing," said Talon.

He was youngish, maybe only a few years older than Finnick, and surprisingly normal; wind-blow dark hair that seemed its natural colour and alert ocher eyes. He was dressed in simple black and leather with a gold necklace with a claw pendent. Even his voice lacked the Capitol accident. The only self-alteration seemed to be eyeliner and gold eyeshadow, both lightly applied.

"Thanks to you," I said, giving him a real smile.

"No," he replied, returning the smile. "I just got them to notice."

I noticed some of the other tributes giving us dirty looks. As Talon and the others removed our capes, I realized I was still holding Liam's hand and let go.

"Thanks you holding on to me," he said. "You know Talon was right, I could barely keep my eyes off you."

He gave me a smile so genuinely sweet with a touch of shyness that warmth rushes through me. I remind myself I can't trust him. He was probably trying to lure me into a false sense of security then stab me in the back. Literally. I leaned forward and kissed him on the cheek. Two could play this game. He looked surprised, but happy.

Then, I feel someone running their hand across my back. I wheel around and find myself face-to-face with the boy from 2. Well, almost face-to-face, he was about a head taller than me. He had slightly spikey blonde hair, blue eyes, and creamy skin that was ripped with muscles. He was insanely cute, but his smile was slightly arrogant like he knew he could own you. Well, I was ready to show him I wasn't one of those easy girls.

"Touch me again and I'll make sure your face is rearranged so no girl we'll want to look at it again," I snarled.

"Ooooooooh, feisty, I like it," he said.

"I don't think you do," I said.

"_I _think I do," he said, moving closer. "My name's Cash."

"Armstrong, Kira Armstrong," I said. I didn't like how close he was or the look in his eye. I stepped back and immediately felt like a coward.

"Scared of me, Kira?" said Cash, grinning. "Or do you not want to make a scene in front of your boyfriend?"

I shot a sharp glance at Liam who took a step back, hands raised.

"He's not my boyfriend," I snapped, glaring back at Cash.

"OK, touchy subject, but that makes it easier for me," he turned and started to walk away, waving over his shoulder. "See ya in training, _Kira_."

The way he said my name made my skin crawl. I turned away without a glance at Liam and followed Grace to the elevator.


	6. Chapter 5: Training Day 1

**Chapter 5: Training Day 1**

**Liam Pike, District 4 (15)**

I followed Kira to the elevator. She didn't speak or look at me the whole ride. I didn't know what her problem was. I hadn't _asked_ her to kiss me though I wasn't complaining about that. The boy from 2 seemed to have unnerved her. Maybe she'd never had anyone hit on her before which was hard, with her looks, to believe.

The Training Center was a huge tower with a whole floor for each district and the real training rooms below ground. Grace talked nonstop the whole ride up about our costumes and how well we conducted ourselves. Talon, Finnick, and my stylist were waiting at the table as we entered. A silent Avox offered me and Kira a glass of wine, but we shook are heads and tucked into the meal.

Afterward, we move into the sitting room to watch the replay of the opening ceremonies. Some of the other couples give good impressions, but none can match us. We all sigh as we come out of the Remake Center.

"Why the hand holding?" asked Finnick.

"We were trying to keep our balance," I said.

"It makes you look like a team," he said with a grin. "I like it."

He hooks his arm around Kira's waist and looked from her to me.

"Tomorrow is the first training day," he said. "Meet me for breakfast and we'll thrash out a game plan. For now, go get your beauty sleep."

He gave Kira a swift kiss on the cheek before scooping her into his arms like a puppy and matching her, laughing wildly, down the hall to her room. Talon laughed.

"You don't know how happy it makes Finnick to find he has family," he said to the room at large. "He's already crazy about her and they've barely known each other a day."

I nodded, but inwardly, I was a little sad. This meant Finnick would do whatever he could to get Kira home. _Well, isn't that what you wanted too?_ I shake my head to rid it of those thoughts and head to my room. As I passed Kira's door, I hear much talking and laughing. Unable to help it, I peered through the crack.

Kira and Finnick were sitting on her bed. She was talking avidly while he seemed to be asking questions. One of them made her laugh. I had never seen Kira so happy and carefree even though she was preparing for a fight to the death against twenty-three other kids. I crossed the hall to my room and shut the door. As I climbed into bed, I pictured Kira's happy face. She deserved to go home. She had something to live for. Unlike me.

**Kira Armstrong, District 4 (15)**

After Finnick left, I just lay awake for a moment, thinking things over. Ever since my parents died, I'd always just had one person in my life; Lance. Now, I had Finnick. When he had carried me to my room and dumped me on my bed, he challenged me to a game of Twenty Questions. Each person asks each other twenty questions that they have to answer truthfully. Finnick and I found we had a lot in common.

I could never remember having so much fun since my Mom and Dad died. Finnick made me open up in a way no one had ever done before. Lance didn't need to since he could pretty much read my thoughts. I sighed as I closed my eyes. Even if I was going to die, I was glad for these few days.

My dreams are filled with gory images from past Hunger Games. I bolt up screaming just as dawn was breaking. I take an invigorating shower. My room, which is larger than my entire house, has so many automatic gadgets that I know I won't have time to try them all. I find an outfit laid out for me; a short-sleeved dark blue jumpsuit edged in red with the number 4 at the back of the collar and leather boots. Once dressed, I make my way to the dining room.

It's empty and the table's bare, but a long board of to the side was laden with dishes. I loaded a plate with ham, fried potatoes, batter cakes covered in maple syrup, puffy bread, and slices of a pale pink melon. I gorged myself and watched the sunrise, thinking how much more beautiful it looked over the sea.

I was just refilling my plate when Finnick and Liam entered, bid me good morning, and load their plates. Liam was wearing exactly the same outfit as me. After Finnick finishes several plates of the batter cakes, he leaned back in his chair and sighs deeply.

Noticing me fiddling with my hair, he smiled and does my hair in the same rope braid Lance did on the day of the Reaping. His fingers are even more dexterous since he seemed to have spent his childhood doing nothing, but wielding tridents and manipulating ropes into fancy knots for nets, then again, who I'm I to talk.

"OK, fun's over," he said. "Give me some idea of what you can do, unless you want me to coach you separately?"

I glanced at Liam. If it was a fight between me and him, I could take him.

"You can coach us together," I said. Liam nodded.

"Alright, then, what can you do?"

"I can fight with a trident, throw knives pretty well, and beat everyone in hand-to-hand combat," I said.

Finnick grinned. "So modest,"

"It's true," said Liam. "I've seen her at school."

I shot him a look. _What is he doing? Why is he taking me up?_

"What can you do, Liam?" asked Finnick.

He shrugged. "I can chuck a spear,"

"And shoot an arrow into the middle of a target fifty feet away," I said.

Liam glared at me.

"He asked what you can do, why aren't you telling him?" I snapped.

"There aren't always bows in the arena," said Liam. "And archery isn't that useful if a hundred-pound male is charging you with an axe."

"You'd kill him before he got within twenty yards of you,"

"No, I won't,"

"Why are you underselling yourself?" I snapped. "Because you're the Head Peacekeepers son?"

A red flush of anger rose in his cheeks, but he said nothing.

"Say something!" I yelled. "At least your father was very verbal when he took my parents away! You're like a dull clam."

I don't know where my anger was coming from, but it had driven me to my feet. Finnick laid a hand on my arm, but I ignored it. Liam looked up at me with shock and anger burning in his eyes.

"What do you mean?" he asked. "About your parents?"

"Your father came to our house in the middle of the night when I was eleven," I said. "He arrested them for some petty crime they didn't even do. Then they were put to death."

The anger in his eyes changed to pain and sorrow. He reached a hand toward me.

"Kira, I'm so sorry—"he began, but I smacked his hand away.

"Don't pretend you didn't know," I snapped.

His anger flared again.

"I didn't! Kira, I might be his son, but I'm not him."

"You're enough like him," I said.

"I'm not!" The pain was back. It spread across his face and his hands were clenched into fists. "You don't know what it's like growing up scared to say or do anything that might result in a beating or being locked in the upstairs closet or not being allowed to eat the scraps that were the only food you ever got."

Liam put his head in his hands. There was a long silence. I was full of shock at what I'd just heard. What father would do that to his son? Looking at Liam, I realized while my childhood had been tough and painful, his must have been unbearable. I glanced at Finnick who raised his eyebrows. I took a deep breath.

"I'm sorry, Liam," I said.

He looked up at me. I had never noticed how blue his eyes were, the colour of the sky. He nodded briefly. Finnick clapped his hands.

"Well, then, let's wrap this up. The plan's the same for both of you; save your main skill for your private session with the Gamemakers. For Liam, that'd be archery and Kira, I'd suggest trident or knife-throwing, but show off your hand-to-hand combat before. Other than that, spend the time learning something new, I'd advise survival skills and physical welfare. Got that?"

We nodded. "Good. Meet Grace by the elevator at ten for training."

I went to my room and lay on my bed, staring at the ceiling. When it was almost ten, I cleaned my teeth, smoothed my back my hair, and go to meet Grace. Liam was already there. I thought he would still be angry with me, but he meets my gaze without a trace of anger in his blue eyes.

"I'm sorry," we said at the same time.

That made us laugh and lightened my mood slightly as we ride the elevator down to the training rooms. It's an enormous gymnasium filled with stations on everything from knot-tying to sword-fighting. Trainers stand next to their stations along with assistants who were there if we wanted to practice fighting techniques with a partner since we were forbidden to engage in any combative exercise with another tribute.

As the head trainer, Atala, read off the list of stations, I glanced around at my fellow tributes. I'm taller than most of the girls and about as tall as half of the boys, but for the boy from 12. It's clear that though that most of them haven't been properly fed. I've been working hard all my life which makes me athletic and while I'm slim, I'm strong.

I stand straight and noticed the other Career tributes giving my looks. I'm not sure what I read in their expressions. I sense they are waiting to test me, to see if I'm worthy to recruit into their pack. When Atala released us, the other Careers head over to the most dangerous looking weapons and handling them as though they were born wielding them. I wish I could show them what I could do with a trident.

I noticed Liam going to chuck spears with the boy from 9. I head over to the edible plants station. I'm deciding which type of leaf was good to eat. Choosing one, I raised it to my mouth.

"I wouldn't try that one if I were you,"

I jumped at the soft voice in my ear, knocking some plants off the table.

"Sorry," the voice chuckled. "Did I scare you?"

The speaker was so close behind me; I could feel his warm breath on my cheek. I spun 'round and found myself face-to-face with the boy from 2.

"You didn't scare me," I said evenly. "Now, if you don't mind, I was working on something."

"I could help you," he purred, setting his hand on the table so his arm rested against mine. "I am rather good, you know."

"Thanks, but I've got it," I said, popping the right leaf into my mouth and chewing. "Maybe some other time."

The boy, Cash, grabbed my arm and turned me to face him. He was even closer now, our faces barely inches apart. I could see every detail of his gorgeous eyes which I first thought were light blue, but now I could see a ring of violet around each pupil and veins of violet lacing through them.

"How about tonight at eleven?" he whispered. "You could come down to my floor. I could teach you lots of things."

His eyes trapped me, I couldn't move, I was frozen. He moved even closer, his lips brushed my forehead, then my nose, and then moved toward my lips. My mind snapped awake again. I placed both hands on his chest and shoved him away from me as hard as I could. He clearly wasn't expecting it and he staggered backward, his gorgeous eyes widening slightly in surprise.

"Aw, come on, Kira," he pouted slightly as he moved closer again. "Let me have a little fun—"

"Find some other girl to have it with then," I said coolly and moved away.

_What was his problem? Why was he hitting on me? I wasn't the prettiest tribute; the girl from District 1 beat me at that._ My body was still tingling from his touch. I headed over to the physical welfare station. The boy from District 7 was climbing a set of vertical nets. He reminded me of a squirrel though his crazy ginger hair and scrawny build might have helped that image.

I started on a set of ascending platforms. The objective was to get through as fast as possible while trainers swung at you with padded swords. I dodged through without getting hit. I then moved on to the obstacle course and slipped through with ease. Next, come the nets. I stood at the foot of them, looking up. It looked smaller at a distance. Now, I see its true height was about thirty feet and completely vertical. The boy from District 7 was watching me. I gritted my teeth and started up.

Climbing trees had always been a fascinating pastime of mine. Every time, I'd see a tree, I'd climb it. Lance thought I was crazy, but I loved it. Now, I could flatter myself that I could climb just as swift and gracefully as anyone from District 7. These nets were a bit harder, but soon I was next to the boy. He's frowning, but nodded and climbed down just as easily as he climbed up. I climbed down more slowly.

Now that I was warmed up, I headed over to the fencing station. The other Careers were gathered there. They watched the trainer drilled me on a few basic moves. I tried them against an assistant and preformed hem flawlessly so the trainer starts me on harder moves.

I sensed the Careers eyes burning into me, looking for weakness. A slightly sloppy parry causes the assistant's sword to slam into my chest. It felt like I'd broken my sternum, but I fought on determined not to look weak.

**Liam Pike, District 4 (15)**

I went over to the spear-throwing station because I really didn't know where else to go. The boy from District 9 was there. He was tall and muscled with dark brown hair flipped to the side so it hung in his eyes which were jasper-brown. He was quite good-looking and grinned at me as I approached.

"Hello," he said in a friendly way.

"Hey," I said, picking up a spear.

"This your weapon of choice?" he asked as I threw the spear. It hit just short of the bull's eye.

"No," I said, wondering if the guy was just acting friendly to find out my strengths and weaknesses. "You?"

"Nah, I prefer a sword," he said, taking his turn to throw a spear. It missed the target and imbedded in the wall. "My name's Kye, by the way. Kye Oaks, District 9."

"Liam Pike, District 4," I replied.

"Why aren't you with the rest of the pack?" Kye asked, jerking his head at the Careers gathered around the fencing station. "I noticed the girl from 1 giving you looks."

I shrugged. "Not my type,"

"What is your type then?" he asked, chucking another spear.

I couldn't help, but throw a glance at Kira who was sitting at the edible plants station. Kye followed my gaze.

"Good choice, man," he said.

As we watched, the boy from 2 snuck up behind Kira, making her jump. I didn't like how close he was to her. Then, he turned her around to face him, his lips almost touching hers. I made a move, but Kye grabbed my arm.

"Easy there, bro, your girl can handle herself,"

His words were true for just then Kira shoved the District 2 boy away from her and stormed off. I sighed and turned away to throw some more spears.

"You got an alliance with her?" asked Kye.

"No," I said. "What about you? Any alliances?"

"No, that's what I was planning on doing today; meet some people, forge alliances. You game?"

"What? You mean an alliance? I don't know why'd you want me?"

"You seem pretty smart. We could use that. And you aren't allied to the Careers."

"I guess so. Sure." Kye and I shake hands which makes me feel slightly awkward.

"So," said Kye. "Who else should we pick up?"

I looked around. A girl with fawn-coloured hair and a dreamy expression was at the tracking station and the mousey girl from 8 was learning to build shelters with the wispy girl from 11. The boy from I guessed District 7 was climbing down from a set of vertical climbing nets. I also spotted the tributes from 5, the twin brother and sister, sparring with padded wood pikes. No one was bothering to stop them I guess because they were siblings.

"I'd say the boy from Seven and the two from Five," I said.

"OK, I'll get the boy from Seven," said Kye, grinning.

_Great,_ I thought. _Leave me with the harder ones._ Even so I walked toward the siblings. They stopped their sparring and watched me approach. Their matching grey eyes unnerved me, but I didn't let it show.

"Hey," I said.

"Yo," said the boy. His sister just glared.

"What do you want?" she asked harshly. "Why aren't you with the rest of your friends?" She jerked her head toward the other Careers.

"They're not my friends," I said, trying to keep my voice even.

"Why not?" she snapped. "You're as much of a jerk as they are."

"Tals—"her brother began.

"Shut up, Nick," she said. "Let him defend himself."

I closed my eyes and took a shaky breath. The girl was trying to provoke me, but I couldn't let her. I opened my eyes and glared at her.

"I'm not with the Careers. I was wondering if you wanted an alliance with me and Kye," I said, nodding toward the guy from 9.

The girl raised her eyebrows, impressed by my ally. Her brother waited for her to decide.

"OK, then," she said, turning away. "Meet us at lunch and we'll come up with a plan."

I watched her walk away, her brother following in her wake, feeling slightly more hopeful. I had the beginnings of a strong alliance. I turned away and saw Kira practicing fencing, watched by the other Careers. I moved closer to watch. Kira fought as fierce and graceful as a tiger, her movement swift and powerful. I couldn't help, but grin. Oh, what I wouldn't give to have Kira as an ally.

**Cash Martin, District 2 (16)**

I watched the girl from 4, Kira Armstrong, learn the fencing moves. She was pretty good. I grinned to myself. Being rejected twice by her made me more determined than ever to get her. She was a survivor, fierce and smart, and cute to boot. I definitely wanted an alliance with her. I leaned closer to Shiny, the blond blue-eyed killing machine from District 1, and whispered:

"Her. I think we should recruit her."

Shiny frowned, wrinkling her nose. I could tell she didn't fancy the idea. Shiny looked upon the other tribute girls with distain, all, but Kathrin who she treated with cold respect.

"Really, you think she'll do? She seems a little . . . unpredictable."

"That's what I like about her," I said. "Anyway, we need everyone we can get."

Shiny shot me an evil look, but nodded. She moved toward the girl, me, Kathrin, and her district partner, Silker, following in her wake. Kira was putting away her sword. Shiny addressed her.

"So, District Four, you've been offered a place in our . . . group. It's an honor."

Kira folded her arms and raised her eyebrows. I admired her perfect figure and long legs, showed off by the skin-tight jumpsuit. Also her lightly tanned skin that had a golden glow to it and her flaming red hair, the half bang framing her high cheek boned face. What really caught me were her eyes, smoldering with an inner fire.

"What can you offer me?" she asked.

Shiny shrugged. "A pick of the supplies after the bloodbath, a better chance at survival, what do you want?"

Kira's eyes were like burning cold steel.

"I want to go home," she snapped. "And I can achieve that without you fish headed bastards."

Wow, she had a mouth to go with her looks, sexy. She turned away. Shiny made a move and there was a clang of metal on metal. Shiny had been trying to hit Kira and the boy from 4 had blocked with another sword. Kira whipped around. The boy knocked Shiny's sword aside and glared at her.

"Real classy," he spat and walked away.

We stared after him.

"Hey, Four, tell your friend to learn some respect," Silker growled.

Kira shot daggers at him (not literally).

"He showed you all the respect you deserved," she snapped and walked after the boy. So sexy. I stared after her.

"I don't fancy your taste," Silker commented.

"She sure showed you up," I said grinning.

He scowled.


	7. Chapter 6: Training Day 2

**Chapter 6: Training Day 2**

**Ray Stormer, District 6 (14)**

I looked up from the fire I was trying to make. I saw the boy from 4, the boy from 9, the boy from 7, the boy from 12 and the twins from 5 huddled next to the spear-throwing station. It was clear they were in an alliance. I sighed. Though I knew I shouldn't care, I felt lonely.

The Careers were just hovering around the weapons while the small group of tributes seemed to be planning their strategy. The other tributes wandered from station to station which is what I had been doing.

"Need some help with that?" a voice asked.

I looked up and saw the mousey girl from District 8. Behind her was the wispy girl from 11 who she seemed to have allied with.

"Sure," I found myself saying.

The girl kneeled next to me. I noticed a beautiful bracelet on her wrist. I guessed it was her district token.

"That's lovely," I said, pointing at it.

She smiled. "Thanks. It's from my boyfriend." She showed me two names engraved into it; _Paul and Trix._

I nodded and looked back at my fire, feeling sick. All these kids had a reason to go home, even the spoiled Careers. No one deserved to die. The girl, Trix, asked me a question.

"What?" I asked.

She laughed. "I asked your name? I'm Trix."

"Oh, Ray,"

"Nice to meet you, Ray, this is Rose," she said pointing to the girl from 11.

"Hi," I said.

The wispy girl smiled and made some hand gestures. I looked at Trix.

"She's deaf," Trix explained.

She made some gestures and Rose nodded.

"What did you say?" I asked.

"I told her your name and that you said hello," she said.

"How'd you learn sign language?"

"My grandmother was deaf too," she said, smiling sadly.

Rose kneeled next to us, took the flint and steel in her hands, and struck. Sparks flew onto the twigs that I had been trying to light for the past half hour and caught. She looked up at me and grinned showing very white even teeth. I smiled back and nodded.

"Good job," I said and Trix signed it.

**Nickolas Mika, District 5 (17)**

I sat alone at the camouflage station, watching my sister get a wrestling lesson. She looked so strong and determined that I almost forgot she was my minute-younger sister. Her light brown hair was pulled back in a high pony-tail with two strands hanging down on either side of her heart-shaped face. She looked like a victor.

I sighed and looked down at the paint mix I was stirring. It looked like barf. I sighed again and tossed my bowl aside. It was pointless anyway. I couldn't hide. I had to make sure my sister got home alive.

"Bored?" said a voice right next to me. I jumped. The boy from District 12 grinned at me.

"What do you want?" I snapped mainly because I didn't like being startled.

"I asked if you were bored," the boy said. "I am. Want to see something funny?"

Before I could respond, the boy snuck off toward the Careers who were gathered around the weapons station. Despite myself, I watched. The boy slipped his hand into the boy from 2's pocket and drew something out. Then, he ducked behind the boy from 1 and put the item in his pocket. Then, he came back to me.

"Now, watch," he said.

**Silker Wealth, District 1 (16)**

"I'll give you points, Cash," said Kathrin. "She _was_ good-looking."

I snorted. "If you like that type,"

Cash grinned. "I do. In fact, I was thinking of proposing to her."

Now, Shiny and I both snorted. Kathrin just looked shocked.

"Cash, you'll have to kill her. Anyway, what would you propose with?"

"My district token," he said and reached into his pocket.

We waited. A look of surprise crossed Cash's face. He felt around in his other pocket. Nothing.

"Where the hell is my ring?!" he shouted. "Who took my ring?!"

Shiny and Kathrin started to giggle which made Cash angrier. He looked around at the watching tributes.

"Who took my ring?! When I found out who did it, I'll be the first to die in the arena!"

The small boy from 12 slowly approached. Cash glared down at him. I had to give the kid credit for not running away. If I were his size I wouldn't have come any closer. An angry Cash wasn't a pretty sight.

"I saw who took your ring," he said quietly.

Cash grabbed him and shook him. "Who did it?!"

A few guards moved closer so Cash released the boy, but still glared down at him.

"Who?" he asked again.

"T-the boy from One," the boy stammered, pointing at me.

Cash whipped around and stormed up to me.

"You traitor! Give me back my ring!"

"I don't have your ring," I said, completely confused. "The bastard's lying."

"You're the one who's a liar!" Cash yelled. "Give it back!"

"I don't have it!"

"Really, Cash?" snapped Shiny. "You're trusting the word of a twelve-year-old from an outline district?"

"You stay out of this!" Cash snapped back before turning back to me. "Turn out your pockets!"

"I already told you, I don't have it,"

"DO IT!"

I reached into my pockets which I knew were empty. My fingers brushed against something. My eyes widened and I brought out my hand. In its palm rested a ring made of twisted silver bands. Cash snatched it.

"You liar! You did steal it!"

"I didn't do it! I don't know how the hell it got there!" but Cash just turned away in discussed and stormed off. Shiny gave me a deadly look.

"I stood up for you and _this_ is how you repay me? By making me look a fool."

"I didn't do it, Shiny. Maybe that kid—"

"Just shut up," she snapped and marched away after Cash followed by Kathrin.

I swore and walked away. Once the Games started, that kid was going to pay.

**Nickolas Mika, District 5 (17)**

I grinned as the kid walked back to me.

"I'll admit," I said. "That was pretty funny. I wouldn't have had the guts to face down Cash."

The boy grinned.

"What's your name?" I asked. "I'm Nick."

"Jason," he said. "Jason Coal."

"Well, Jason, do you want to join me and my allies at lunch? We could use someone like you."

He nodded. "Sounds good, but you'd better warn them to watch their pockets."

I laughed. This kid had lightened my spirits.

"Come on," I said. "Let's go learn how to throw a knife."

**Fawn Woods, District 10 (13)**

I glared at the rope I was trying to make into a hammock. Right now it looked like a giant hairball. I tugged on my curls, frustrated. So far, the only things I'd been good at were tracking and edible plants. I was also fairly good with spears since they were pretty close to pitchforks. But, what use was any of that in a fight. 'Fairly good' wouldn't cut it.

I stood and wandered around the Training Center, looking for something else to do. My hand went to my district token; a bracelet locket that contained a picture of my family. I would make it back to them.

**Kira Armstrong, District 4 (15)**

I slammed my fist into the punching bag again and again, imagining it to have the Capitol's face. After three years of working and training, the muscles in my arms were like steel cords. I started to add kicks.

The Gamemakers showed up on the first day and I noticed them watching me quite a bit when they weren't stuffing their faces with the food laid out for them. They also talked to our trainers during meals.

These past few days, I'd been going from station to station and picked up some valuable skills from starting a fire to tracking game to making shelter. I avoid trident fighting, but exceled at knot-tying and knife-throwing and, of course, hand-to-hand combat. I noticed Liam had got himself a gang of allies and try not to be envious. I punch the bag even harder, but that made it swing wildly which meant I had to dodge _and_ punch.

"Want me to hold that?" said a familiar voice.

I glared at Cash leaning casually against the wall. _Why wouldn't he leave me alone?_ I'd tried being fierce to get him off my back which only seemed to make him more entranced by me so it was time to try another tactic. I smiled.

"If you think you can handle it," I said sweetly.

He grinned widely as he swaggered over. "Oh, I can handle anything," he said as he gripped the bag.

I did three quick hard punches then added a kick for good measure. Cash grunted a little, but didn't shift. I did another quick set of punches and two kicks. A gasp escaped Cash's lips. I paused.

"Need me to go gentler?" I said with a sly smile.

He met my eyes. "No, I'm good," he said and braced himself.

As I punched without pausing, I asked: "So . . . it must be nice . . . being from Two?"

"It is," he replied. "We live on this huge mountain. If you go to the top of the Justice Building, you can see all around."

I nodded as I swung a kick.

"So, what about you?" he gasped out. "What's home like for you?"

"It's beautiful," I said. "You should see the ocean when the sunlight hits it."

"I hope to," he said. "On my Victory Tour."

That sickened me. This guy was flirting with me knowing he'd have to kill me later. I slammed my fist into the bag a little harder than necessary. Just then, the trainers called us to lunch. I stepped away from the bag and wiped the sweat from my brow.

"What to join me for lunch, Kira?" Cash asked.

"Not today, thanks, Cash," I said.

He smiled at me and I looked away before his eyes could trap me.

"I think you _friends_ are waiting for you," I said, gesturing toward the other Career tributes.

Still smiling, Cash reached out and touched my cheek. Despite myself, I shied away.

"I'm not giving up on you," he said and walked away.

Damn it! Far from driving him away, I'd seemed to have given him more hope. Cursing under my breath, I made my way to lunch.

**Liam Pike, District 4 (15)**

I watched Kira and Cash from the corner of the Training Center where there was a platform about five feet off the ground which wasn't hard to get to and a great seat. The guy just wouldn't leave her alone though she'd made it perfectly clear in my opinion that she wasn't interested.

When he touched her cheek, I wanted to jumped down there and attack him. But, Kira wouldn't have liked that. I knew Kye was right, she could handle herself.

"Yo, Liam," I looked down and saw Nick Mika staring up at me.

"What?"

"Time for lunch,"

I sighed and jumped down from the platform. As I served myself, I looked around for the rest of my alliance. They were all sitting at a table near the Careers, joking and laughing. Then, I saw Kira alone in a corner. For a second, her face, which was pretty much always a blank mask, showed an emotion; loneliness. I started toward her.

"Hey, Pretty boy!" called Kye. "Aren't you going to join us?"

I turned and grinned. "Not today, Kye,"

As I sat down across from her, Kira glanced up at me, then stared at her plate. I wished Kye would stop whistling.

"Hey," I said. "You doing OK?"

She nodded and sighed. I knew it was a stupid question to ask since we were kind of preparing to battle to the death, but I really didn't know what to say.

"I just want it to be over," she said suddenly, meeting my eyes. "I hate waiting. However it turns out, I just want it to be over."

I nodded. "I know what you mean,"

I saw another emotion flicker in her eyes; homesickness. I reached into the bread basket between us. Under the crescent-shaped loaves from District 11 and the fine white Capitol bread, I pulled out a fish-shaped loaf, tinted green with seaweed, from District 4.

Kira smiled when she saw it. It was one of the only times I'd seen her truly smile and it warmed me, knowing I had made her smile. I tore it in half and handed her one. It tasted slightly salty, but wonderfully of home.


End file.
